Witfit Entries June 2013
by Aussiegirl101
Summary: This is an exploration for me. It's been a while. I need it. Rated M just in cases.
1. Chapter 1

**Word Prompt:** Dismiss

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb:** In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about **branching out.**

The smooth keratin of my nails rubbed pleasantly back and forth across my bottom lip. My eyes were sightless, staring out into the vast combination of paddock, waving grass and occasional tree but searching far beyond and within.

I had always been an observer. Rather than actively participate in the motion of life, I watched. Throughout childhood I blended and adapted, possessing not the oddness that left one ostracized but bland enough to be included and then ignored. I sat at the back of the classroom, listening to both the lesson and the interactions before me. I waited to be included on the edge of the sporting field. I was invited to parties and then largely left to my own devices. I spent my youth nodding diligently, responding respectfully when required. I rote learned the passages necessary to acquire a decent education but never considered myself a shareholder; someone invested in holding an opinion or having the ability to challenge the status quo.

I remembered the dying days of high school. I wandered those corridors and gazed in awe at the Hale twins as they swept by in a fragrant cloud of beauty and promise. Their eyes took in every detail but didn't pause as they swept over my small dullness. It wasn't as though I felt them dismiss me, I wasn't important enough to warrant dismissal.

A gust of wind travelled up the hill at the same time as I took an intake of breath. It was crisp and cool and I felt it invigorate my body to the tips of my fingers. I shook my head and focused on the here and now.

Charlie was dead. I was alone. I was not obligated to another soul on this earth. I felt energized, ready to engage.

The keys to my battered utility pressed sharply into my palm and I stood, dusting the red dirt from my best pair of jeans. Not giving myself time for doubt, I sat in the driver's seat, reversed over the gravel of the rest stop and drove ahead.

The door swung open to the reception area. I was meant to be here so I had no reason to feel embarrassed. Still, my face flushed as I took in the scene. Rosalie Hale faced the front door. I knew this because of her height and the frame of her long golden hair. I could not see her face because if was plastered against another. He had broad shoulders, a slim build and a worn, leather belt that rested just on his hipbone. His hair was in complete disarray due to the fact that Rosalie's red tipped fingers were roaming through it, clutching in wild abandon.

I cleared my throat and saw the shoulders of the unknown man stiffen slightly.

Unabashed, Rosalie's face appeared over the shoulder of her tall companion. Her lips were puffy and devoid of their usual red gloss. She gave me a lazy and blissful smile. "Hello Bella, ready for your interview?"


	2. Chapter 2 - Wail

**Word Prompt**: Wail

**Dialogue Flex**: "How am I going to get through this evening?"

Using the provided snippet of dialogue, explore what comes to mind, be it a scene, a thought, or something else.

Unbeta'd

* * *

Who said men can't multitask?

The red sauce bubbled gently on the stovetop. I lifted the lid, dropped in some freshly chopped basil and gave a brisk stir. The pasta was almost cooked and ready to drain and I had cut up some crusty, French bread. The yeasty smell was both a comfort and made my stomach rumble in anticipation.

"Em," I called. "Have you set the table?" I knew he hadn't set the table.

I glanced at the massive frame, hunched still and intent before the boxy television. Harsh lights danced across his profile and I could see his mouth hanging open, a small lift to his lips. It was _The Simpsons_, his favourite. So, of course, he hadn't heard me. Homer said, "Doh," and Emmett laughed uncontrollably.

"Em," I drawled his name in a singsong tone.

He turned his head, eyes vacant for a moment before he smiled sweetly. "Fish fingers, Dee?"

"No, mate, it's Tuesday, pasta night. You told me you wanted red sauce. Em loves pasta with red sauce. Remember?" He didn't answer, turning his head and attention back to the television programme

Quickly I grabbed cutlery, napkins and grated cheese and placed them on our scratched but serviceable pine dining table.

"Xbox now, Dee?" The episode had ended and Emmett ambled toward me in the tiny kitchen, our conversation from moments ago forgotten.

"No, Em. Dinner time. Aren't you hungry?" I waved his heaped bowl under his nose.

He smiled again and giggled. "Dee, hungry?"

"Mate, I'm bloody starving."

Emmett sat patiently, staring eagerly at his food, while I tied a large tea towel around his neck. As usual, I tried not to watch too closely while he ate. It wasn't pretty. At least I had taught him to use the tea towel to mop up his face at the end of his meal. It was easier to whip off a towel and throw it in the washer and dryer than deal with miscellaneous pieces of food, hidden in the crevices of his clothing.

I felt weary to my very bones. Each day was the same. I think the monotony of it made me even more tired. Today though was a little different. I kept thinking about that kiss. I had never been with a woman who was that aggressive before. She had taken me completely by surprise. She wore a lot of lipstick. I ran my tongue over my front teeth, remembering the feel of that kiss. Come to think of it, lately there hadn't been many women, full stop. Perhaps my luck was about to change. I glanced at my brother, grimaced and ruffled his hair. He looked tired too.

"Big day, Em? You almost ready for bed?"

"Xbox first, Dee."

"Yeah mate, we'll play Xbox first."

Later, with his routine successfully completed and Emmett tucked safely into bed, I sank gratefully into the sofa and cracked the top off a crisply cold beer. Three quick swallows and everything seemed to fall away. I closed my eyes and sighed deeply, my shoulders relaxed and I stretched my legs in front of me.

Beer spurted back up my nose with the sudden sound of a painful and terrified wail.

I dropped my beer on the coffee table and ran down the hallway. Clicking on the sidelight I was met with the sight of my six foot four brother, twisting and writhing in his bed. His close-cropped brown curls were damp with sweat and tears were leaking from the sides of his tightly clenched eyes. He was screaming for our mother.

I sat on the side of the bed and gripped Emmett firmly by his shoulders, rubbing my hands up and down his massive arms. "Shh, shh, buddy. Dee's here. It's alright. I'm here, Em."

Emmett's eyes opened wide with surprise and his voice broke, "Dee." He sat up and hugged me. To be honest it was more of a crushing, he had no idea of his own strength. I patted his back until he calmed. He pressed his eyes into the bones of my shoulder. "I want mum." He sniffed loudly. It was kind of gross but I didn't let him go.

"I know, Em. I want her too."

Emmett lifted his head and looked at me pitifully. He was twenty-nine years old but he had the soul and mind of a seven-year-old. "Stay?"

I thought longingly about my rapidly warming beer, waiting for me on the coffee table. _Do the right thing, Edward_.

"Sure."

I pushed him back down on the bed and rolled him onto his side, stretching out behind him. He grabbed my arm and pulled it around his body, clutching my hand to his chest. After several long, deep breaths I felt his body relax and sink into the mattress.

"Rosie is very pretty, Dee."

I lay there, fully clothed and tried to think again about that kiss.

"Yeah, she is. You like her?"

I felt Emmett's head nod into his pillow.

Everything about Rosalie Hale had been a surprise. People like her weren't usually drawn to people like us. She had seemed genuinely interested in helping the shelter and the outcomes for people like Em. She was, without question, drop dead gorgeous.

Then, later, that kiss. Right out of left field.

All I could remember was being embarrassed when that other girl had walked in the reception area. I couldn't even look at her. But I remembered the smell when she walked through the door.

Jasmine and springtime.

* * *

Yeah, I don't even know what this is, lol.

I am so touched by those of you who have come back to read more of my drivel. You have no idea. Unfortunately, it is either write or respond to reviews. I treasure knowing that someone has read words I have written and responded in some way.

Life is still hard. I WILL finish The Best Throw at some stage. It's almost done.

Thank you. AG x


	3. Chapter 3 - Dally, alley, rally

**Word Prompts: **Dally, alley, rally

Choose one word and write what your imagination dictates. For an added challenge, include all three words in your entry.

Unbeta'd

* * *

I hired her on the spot. Rosalie Faith Hale was no fool and I certainly wasn't one to dally when opportunity fell into my lap.

The Swan girl was ridiculously over-qualified for an office manager / receptionist. She held both under and post graduate degrees in arts, literature and creative writing. Granted, they had been completed with an online university and provided no real benefit toward gaining practical employment but she was obviously intelligent.

I pretended that I didn't remember her from high school. I don't know why I did that. Protective instinct I suppose. It made me seem like a bitch but why spoil the image of a lifetime, right?

I remembered her. There was something…an other-worldliness. She always struck me as possessing an enviable inner-strength. She didn't bend to conform to the ideals expected of her and she never sought out acceptance by our peers. I wish I could have said the same.

The town we lived in was large by country town standards. Still, it was small enough that most people knew exactly what she had done for Charlie Swan. Again, I made no mention of this knowledge during the interview and neither did Bella.

She was proud and private. I respected those qualities. We didn't need to live in each other's pockets simply because we worked together.

I envied her poise, her calm and the look of determination on her face. So naturally, I tried to make her feel as though I was doing her a favour by offering her the position. I can't believe I pointed out she was in her mid-twenties and had never held a _real_ job until now. I'm not sure that girl even had a childhood.

I did make it quite clear that she would be representing me to the public in her new role. She needed to ensure that she reflected this in her future dress sense. That earned a blush from her but bugger it all; I had an image to uphold, one that I was working damned hard to cultivate. My own degree, obtained from the best university in the city, was in business and marketing and I was putting it to excellent use.

Over the past four years I had built up Hale Realty from nothing to a thriving venture. Alice Brandon had recently come on board, to bring the total number of real estate agents in my business to three. I tried to think of my brother, Jasper, as an asset rather than a liability. It was a challenge at times.

Tree changers were a burgeoning market and disillusioned, middle-aged professionals with children, moving three hours from the city, getting back to basics and acquiring a 'better life' for their families were my key market. They snapped up formerly grand country homes on 1-5 acre blocks and threw money into converting them. Win for Rosalie Hale, win for local business.

I might have left the city (and good fucking riddance) but that didn't mean I lacked ambition.

I needed an office manager to free up my time and allow me to work on developing my image within the local community. People needed to trust me, look up to me; they needed to see that I had substance and worth. It was spin, something I was good at.

Donating money and my valuable time to _Carmen's Able Hands_ was the perfect opportunity for me to develop the type of reputation I desired.

Carmen O'Brien was shrewd enough to realise that my interest in her shelter was not solely altruistic. Her shrewdness extended far enough that neither would she look unfavorably upon this particular gift horse.

Carmen received a small amount of government funding but operated largely using her own personal wealth and donations from the public. Shelter wasn't really the correct term for what Carmen did. She coordinated with local businesses to create work opportunities for people with physical and mental disabilities. She brokered work contracts, conducted cleaning, laundry, gardening and other manual labour workshops within and outside the facility. She also ran an agency where she hired personal care workers to go into homes and provide respite for the able-bodied people who cared for those with a disability.

It just so happened that the first day I volunteered coincided with the arrival of Emmett and Edward Cullen into our town and _Carmen's Able Hands_.

If not for the frequent facial twitches and constant motion of his arms and hands, it was not immediately obvious that Emmett Cullen was mentally challenged. As soon as he opened his mouth the illusion was broken; the innocence of his voice and choice of words gave him away.

I was introduced as 'Rosalie' to the brothers. Emmett's eyes grew wide and round and this colossus of a boy-man left the security of his brother's side, walked straight up to me and gripped me in a bear hug. "Rosie," he gushed in my ear. No one called me Rosie. No one. And yet, the words to correct him caught in my throat. His natural exuberance warmed me all the way through. It was unnerving.

As for the brother…

My initial impression of Edward Cullen was not of his undisputed beauty. No, as I witnessed his smiles, gentleness and patience with his brother, the overriding impression he gave me was one of kindness. It was like an aura that encased his every gesture and action.

Maybe, this one.

I was well aware that kindness and gentleness were not all that common in many men, even men you thought you could love. And I reminded myself that not every brutality against a woman occurred in a darkened alley. Before I allowed my thoughts to wander further I tamped down the protective plug that compartmentalized my mind and kept me from delving into dangerous memories.

I wondered, not for the first time, whether Edward Cullen could be the man to release me from my inability to engage in intimacy with a member of the opposite sex?

Best not to get ahead of myself.

Even though I possessed an ulterior motive, I used my time at Carmen's to rally the best version of myself. I had found that person to honestly enjoy spending time with the childlike enthusiasm of Emmett Cullen and some of the other people at the shelter. It also afforded me the opportunity of getting to know his brother and for that I was exceedingly grateful.

I knew that I had shocked Edward when I came onto him after our innocent lunch date. He saw me for the predator that most men assumed I was. I only hoped that I hadn't scared him off and that he could show me the kindness I so desperately craved.


	4. Chapter 4 - Tag

**Word Prompt**: Tag

**Scenario:** While out at dinner with friends, you excuse yourself to use the bathroom. As soon as you open the restroom door, you're sucked into a time machine, and it instantly transports you back to ...?

Complete the scenario in any way, in any style, and for any word count. Open your mind and follow where it leads, writing as you go.

* * *

Ristorante Volturi was traditional, clichéd and instantly welcoming. Plastic coated, red and white checked tablecloths adorned the tables sprinkled throughout. Dusty, fake greenery and purple grapes swung jauntily, decorating the front windows while bottles of Chianti hung on wires from the ceiling at the back of the bar. Delicious smells wafted from the kitchen. The two brothers who owned Ristorante Volturi, Demetrio and Felix, weren't twins but looked the spitting image of each other - gregarious, middle-aged, balding and rotund. They shouted, raising their arms in the air when Emmett and I walked through the front door, greeting us like old friends. We'd never been here before.

"Ahh! Such big, healthy boys. Come, come, welcome." Felix made to wave us to a table by the front windows but of course, Emmett walked straight into the arms of Demetrio and kissed him on the neck.

I felt myself blush and began apologizing. Demetrio took one look at Emmett's innocent smile, his tongue peeking out of the side of his mouth, hands twisting awkwardly and shook his head reassuringly, patting me on the arm. "Lovely, lovely boys. Sit, sit."

Within twenty minutes Emmett was in bliss, surrounded by pepperoni pizza and garlic bread, an enormous glass of coke and ice in front of him. "Em likes it here, Dee."

"I can see that," I said, grinning.

I had allowed myself one beer when we arrived but I too was on the cokes now and I felt the strong urge to piss. "I need to go, Em. Come with me?" I pointed toward the amenities at the back of the restaurant.

"I don't need to, Dee," he whined. He hated it when I made him go with me but it honestly wasn't safe to leave him unsupervised for long.

Sometimes the little bugger could read my mind. "I'll be good, Dee. Em sit. I eat pizza and wait. Be good. Promise." He patted my hand reassuringly as though he was the parent.

I narrowed my eyes at him and said firmly, "Don't leave the table."

He nodded at me and licked his fingers, a look of pride on his face for winning an argument.

The bathroom was located past the kitchens and thankfully clean. After relieving myself, I washed my hands and glanced at my reflection in the scratched mirror. There were lines around my eyes that I didn't remember seeing before and I looked so tired. I was only twenty-eight but sometimes I felt like I was over a hundred years old.

Not wanting to gaze at myself any longer I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes. I was transported through my mind to a day, just under two years ago.

Emmett and I were playing tag in the large garden of our parent's home. It was a warm, lazy, autumn afternoon; the kind of day where you still felt the heat of summer in the middle of the day. Given that Emmett had the attention span of a gnat, the rules of our game changed tack frequently. One minute it was tag and the next it turned into hide and seek. I heard a panting, dismembered voice from above my head, giggle and say, "Where's Emmett?"

It was one of his favourite things to do and I always played along.

I trudged the length of the garden, speaking loudly to myself in a concerned voice. "Where's Emmett? He was right here a moment ago. I can't believe I can't see him. It's like he disappeared into thin air." More giggling. "Emmett," I called. "Hey buddy, where are you? Don't scare Dee."

He dropped like a stone from his perch on a branch of the old elm in our garden and tackled me to the ground. He smelled like soap, fresh sweat and cookies. I wrestled and tickled him until he was crying for mercy, tears of happiness leaking from the sides of his eyes. "No more, Dee. I surrender, I surrender."

A loud crash was heard from inside the house, making both of us turn our heads to the sound. "What's that, Dee?"

"Maybe Mum dropped something?" I suggested.

"She got off the sofa?" Emmett said incredulously.

Another loud, thumping noise followed by the sound of glass breaking and I was running, my heart thundering in my chest.

Emmett giggled behind me as I took in the sight of our shut-in mother, her two hundred kilogram hulk lying face down on our living room floor. A vase and a decorative bowl lay shattered on the floorboards beside the coffee table.

"You're right, Dee. Mum got off the sofa." Emmett laughed again but seemed unsure.

"Hey, buddy," I said, my eyes remained fixed to our mother's prone form. "How about you go upstairs and watch TV, huh?" I tried to keep my voice calm.

"What's Mum doing on the floor, Dee?" he asked softly. "Does she want to play hide and seek too?"

I turned to look at him and gave him a tight smile. "You go upstairs, okay Em? Dee's going to help Mum for a bit and then I'll come and get you, okay?"

His smile had grown smaller again but I thanked God when he walked up the staircase and I ran to our mother. It took me three tries to roll her over but I knew instantly. My hand reached inside the pocket of my jeans to dial for an ambulance but I knew.

She was gone.

I bent over and kissed her cheek, surprised when I saw tears leak from my eyes onto her skin. I brushed away the wetness and rested my forehead in her pretty, pretty hair. "Say hi to Dad," I whispered. "He's been waiting."

Then I fell apart.


End file.
